Her Many Facets
by holeyearmuffins
Summary: Just when Natsume is moving on with his life after the war, he takes in a hauntingly beautiful girl and falls for her... only to find out that a powerful curse has shattered her mind to pieces. What will Natsume do to save the girl he loves?
1. In which Natsume Encounters Mikan

A/N: So this story/plot has been festering in my head for the longest time and just last night I had a dream about it. I started the first paragraph March 2009 and it's been rotting away in my computer... Until now.

I really do hope you guys enjoy the prologue to Her Many Facets. And just so you guys know, the terms that are in italics will be defined at the end of the chapter. Please remember to review!

* * *

_It had only been a month since the end of the Hundred Year's War. A terrible war when all Alices fought for their lost freedom and for the downfall of the dictator, Lord Kuonji._

_ Lord Kuonji, a ruthless man with a complementary __reputation__, was an autonomous leader; paranoid of everyone and obsessed with his vision of a nation run by Alices. He was the type of man who entertained the idea that he was the reincarnation of a powerful leader like Hitler, or a god like the almighty Zeus. It was no surprise to discover that Japan suffered 25 years of tyrannical ruling as a result._

_ During his reign, nearly all factories and buildings that manufactured any form of machinery were bombed on Lord Kuonji's orders- who feared that his enemies would overthrow him through the use of technology- and houses, families, and schools "disappeared" from existence; wiped out by Lord Kuonji's secret police, the Anti-Anarchic Organization, for insubordination. In addition, due to his affiliation with unity, Lord Kuonji cleverly popularized the wearing of kimonos and yukatas, and "accidentally" burnt all factories and stores that pertained to modern clothes; resulting in everyone adorning kimonos and yukatas. As one may have guessed, the delusional ruler was quite pleased with his success in forming a sense of "harmony."_

_ Thus, it was inevitable for every citizen and Alice to rejoice over the inauguration of the compassionate General Yukihara; a man of great munificence and loved by all._

_However, the whereabouts of__ Lord Kuonji's __location__is__ currently unknown,__ unfortunately,__ but most of the members who were apart of the AAO have been executed or will be._

_ Nevertheless, all was well and relatively peaceful compared to the taut silence of fear which once occupied the streets of Japan. But this ordinary and calm day would soon change Natsume Hyuuga's life forever._

* * *

As usual for a summer's day, it was raining in the Asagao prefecture of Kyoto.

A brooding young man slapped his way down the narrow street, sweating slightly from the humidity, the 'clack' of his _geta_ dancing throughout the dusk sky. He took care to avoid the deep puddles that gathered in the cobbled street, not wanting to wash his dark blue _yukata_ again for the -nth time. Or his new pair of _tabi_ for that matter. Frowning deeply at the thought, he unknowingly agitated the premature worry wrinkles in his forehead, deepening his attractive features to emanate a weary aura.

His internal musings were broken when the thud of a thunderous noise caused him to instinctively look up at the sky for any fighter planes. With dilated eyes and a clenched jaw, he belatedly realized that it was only the sound of a dropped umbrella.

"So sorry, Hyuuga-san!" A woman profusely apologized, stooping down to pick up the umbrella. He studied her yellow _yukata_ with its morning glory sash, remembering the day she asked for it. He also remembered her flaunting the stupid engagement ring the potter gave her.

He continued his hasty walk down the road and took a left; relieved to see that his destination, a fabric store, was still open. He opened the glass door, relishing the blast of cold, crisp air that hit his lean frame.

"Welcome- oh, Brother!" Aoi said with pleasant surprise, looking away from her customer. Her crimson eyes glittered with anticipation as he closed the door with a greeting, pausing slightly only to silently assess why his sister seemed ecstatic. Was it the customer?

On cue, the mentioned person turned around and gave the young man a curt nod, who returned it with equal primness. The two of them continued their bartering while the latter examined the various cloths which adorned the shop, covertly inspecting Aoi's customer from the corner of his eye.

The customer, an old man around his mid 70's, wore a formal black _hakama_ despite the weather- indicating that he was a newcomer to Aoi's shop, and therefore wanted to leave a good first impression- while the back of his _haori_ had the insignia of the Tsubaki prefecture- Asagao's sister district that was famous for its prestigious estates. The customer owned an air of dignity and his rigid posture screamed excessive dignity and pompousness.

No. It wasn't the customer. New fabric? His eyes darted about the small shop. It wasn't that either...

"Okay, we'll call you when it's ready. Thank you very much!" Aoi called to his retreating back. The door swung shut in his wake. "Well he wasn't a very agreeable customer. Probably has too much wood in his personality... so what can I do for you, Brother?"

A glint of victory sparked in his keen garnet eyes, pinpointing Aoi's reason, before regaining its blank sheen. He decided to let Aoi spill her exciting news when she wanted instead of spoiling it for her.

The 24-year-old reached and took out a small phone, which was issued to every household by General Yukihira the previous week. Pressing the buttons of this contraption with enviable ease, he said, "I need the morning glory fabrics you gave me last time, since the festival is next month and people have been commissioning for morning glory yukatas; brown textiles in the combination of cotton and polyester; and fifteen yards' worth of hydrangea cloth in silk. Pig Lady wants one for her ugly daughter-in-law for the hydrangea festival in Ajisai. They're coming in tomorrow."

He gave an irritated sigh at the insufferable mother and daughter pair, who were both quite spoiled and turned into drama queens when bored... which meant all the time.

Aoi gave a sympathetic look to her handsome brother, having spent an entire day with the two of them, which nearly resulted in her stabbing the lot to death.

She headed to the storage room while he strolled over to the mini alter erected in the corner of the store. As he kneeled down to pay his respects, he smiled sadly at the picture of a beautiful couple, who smiled incandescently back at him. He was glad that his parent's joyful bliss was never tainted by the Hundred Year's War.

The man's eyes became haunted as he was transported back to the battlefield- the shrieks and bombs that rattled his ear drums; the frenzied bursts of Alices shooting to and fro in a grotesque light show; the coppery smell of blood and smoke staining in his nostrils...

A clattering noise signaled Aoi's return, which snapped him out of his flashback, and saw her heave a bulky box onto the counter. She turned to the cash register, plugged some numbers in, and held her hand out with a beam. The troubled male rubbed his face wearily, locking away his memories of the war, before turning around, and handed over a plastic card with a convincing sigh of resignation. He didn't want to worry his baby sister.

Aoi, with a smug look, strutted over to the cash register while her brother absentmindedly stared out the window.

"Remind me to give you an umbrella. It'd be a shame if these fabrics got soaked." Aoi called.

"Yeah." He answered despondently, scanning the sky by habit. "Sure."

Without warning, the man's lean body tensed defensively and stepped to the side of the window, as he unconsciously reached for the gun hidden within his _yukata_. Flattening his body against the wall, he peered out at the street, searching for the Alice he sensed, until a staggering figure captured his attention. Cocking his pistol, he carefully aimed, but something held him back from shooting. An inexplicable feeling shot through his heart as he watched the figure stumble to the ground helplessly; and with that same feeling in his being, the man tore out of the store, despite his sister's terrified shouts, and into the rain... Not giving a damn about getting his _yukata_ dirty.

He stood over the figure, barely noticing that the rain had evolved into a vigorous downpour. He examined the Alice and estimated her age to be 21, since she looked to be about two or three years younger than he. His expression grew grim when he spotted her AAO uniform. Despite this last detail, he knelt down beside the female with an inward groan, hating himself for not killing her. He unnecessarily rechecked his surroundings for other Alices to gratify his paranoia, already aware that she was most likely teleported here. Satisfied that they were under no imminent threat, he reported his findings to Aoi, who found her place under the overhang of her store. With the Alice's silky auburn locks sprawled out on the cement and her heart-shaped face an abnormally pale color, he wondered whether she was very ill, very rich, or both. Checking her pulse, he swiftly picked up her slender body when he realized she was still alive. Aoi opened the door for the pair with a look of intense concern.

They all headed upstairs to Aoi's and her husband's large apartment, dripping on the carpet in the process. A bewildered Youichi stared at the trio, soup ladle in hand. He opened his mouth to form a question, before Aoi hurriedly explained everything to her husband, as the shivering female was gently placed on the couch. The raven-haired man frowned thoughtfully; for the strange emotion had not disappeared since encountering this AAO member. Rather, it intensified every time he looked at her vulnerable expression. Aoi wrapped the stranger in two comforters and touched her forehead.

"She's got a really high fever. Youichi, can you get a thermometer and some medicine?" Aoi asked as she clipped her short, black hair back.

The man stared down at the bundle skeptically, knowing that she'll never get warm if she stayed in her wet clothes. Apparently Aoi was thinking along the same lines, because she ordered her older brother to lock the store up.

He willingly obliged, stepping out of the room with a relieved exhale. He mussed his already untidy hair wearily as he walked downstairs. Sitting down on the stool behind the cash register, he gazed around the room to force his mind away from the sick girl who caused his heartstrings to feel awful. He took comfort in the familiarity of his surroundings. Aoi's store always contained an array of fabric patterns and were arranged by color on the shelves, which adorned the wall. The exception being the new cloths Aoi got, which hung from the ceiling like wind chimes. Enchanting calligraphy decorated parchments of golden wheat and red that sporadically appeared around the small shop, marking the fabrics that were on sale or popular. The man's eyes landed, once more, on the window. It was dark already. With one cursory check around the store, the brooding male locked up and went back to the apartment when finished.

"She's a soldier from Tokyo."

He looked at his younger sibling with an indifferent expression, noting the mistrust which laced her tone.

"She's got some really faint scars all over her body and her uniform is of synthetic fiber. Which is only produced in the bastard's Tokyo headquarters." She harshly said, then nodded over to a pile of drenched clothes.

The young man bent over the pile and carefully scanned the articles of clothing, dismissing the feelings of hatred that bubbled at the sight of the despised lightweight uniform reserved only for the dogs of the AAO. Memories of the war fought to cloud his head, but he took a deep breath; reminding himself bitterly that those days were over. Carefully, he looked into the pant's pockets for any identification, and found it in the back pocket.

"Sakura Mikan is a one star." He announced, looking up at the couple.

Youichi and Aoi both exchanged glances. He plowed on.

"Which is a lie. These clothes are perfect; they have no rips in them, meaning no one has managed to shoot or cut her. How could a one star do that? And the scars you found on her body, Aoi, were most likely from training, because her face is undamaged. These boots aren't wet on the inside, meaning she was teleported, so someone must've helped her get here... judging from her erratic breathing and pained expression, she was attacked and then saved by a friend. "

Silence met his diagnosis, but it was soon punctuated by Youichi. "Well, she should be fine by tomorrow morning. Why don't you stay the night?"

The keen man hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth putting up with the couple's loving kindness, giving in at the sight of his little sister's pleading face. She cheered childishly and rushed off to the kitchen to warm up a late dinner for everyone.

"Can I see her I.D.?" Youichi inquired politely.

The young man nodded, handing the card over whilst recollecting that Youichi used to live in Tokyo.

"She's from Kanagawa." Youichi said with surprise.

"You know the place?"

"Yeah, kind of. Kanagawa is just a small residential area in Tokyo, it wasn't a place where people visited if they wanted to have fun. It's a really quiet place, but-" Youichi furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't recall there being an Alice."

"Brother! Dinner's ready!" Aoi shouted from the kitchen. Her brother got up from his seat with a fleeting look at the striking woman, wondering what happened to make her like this.

* * *

Evening melted into dawn when the brooding male awoke with a start. He glanced up from his spot on the floor at the vanilla colored couch, alert, and saw a dark bundle stirring fretfully. Standing up so quickly his head spun, he examined her alarmed face, discovering that she had dark gray eyes.

"Where am I?" She whispered hoarsely.

The man trickled some water into her mouth from the side table.

"You're in Asagao, Kyoto. Are you Sakura Mikan?"

She nodded in response, crinkling her face up in concentration, before inquiring, "who are you?"

"My name is Hyuuga Natsume. Do you remember anything about what happened to you yesterday?"

A twinge of recognition flashed in her eyes, "I- I remember..." She clutched her head in pain and curled up in a defensive ball, "... it h-hurts to remember..." She moaned with agony before shrieking shrilly; her sobs making her screams sound raw and cracked like a soldier being tortured.

"What the fuck?" Natsume cursed, hearing Youichi and Aoi rush into the room with exclamations.

His disquieted ruby eyes flew all over her face. What was making her like this? Amnesia? Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? Insanity?

"Make it stop! Stop it!" Her slender frame uncurled itself and twisted into grotesque shapes. "It hurts... so much! Mom? MOM HELP... Please..." Her screams halted abruptly as Natsume shook her cautiously.

"Are you okay, Sakura?" He asked urgently.

Sakura opened her eyes, and instead of frightened gray, they were replaced with cold amethyst ones.

"I'm Imai Hotaru, you idiot. And you're hurting me."

Natsume's eyes widened with ghastly comprehension as he realized what was wrong.

Sakura Mikan did not suffer from anything but a multiple personality disorder.

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Remember to review! :)

On another note, I might go over this later in the far, far future to edit it.

EDITED. If any of the readers can tell me what **Asagao **, **Tsubaki**, and **Ajisai** means in English, I will give you a cookie. Hahahahaa.

-_Geta_: wooden sandals worn with _yukatas_

-_Yukata_: a light-weight version of a _kimono_, worn only during the summer

-_Tabi_: socks worn with _geta_

_-Hakama:_ a very formal variation of the _kimono_ typically worn by men.

_-Haori:_ a kimono-like jacket, worn on formal occasions


	2. In which Natsume Encounters Hotaru

Hyuuga Natsume was speechless. For the first time ever.

Sure, there were moments when he was struck dumb by the stupidity of others but never this. Nothing he had learned or dreamed of could have prepared him for this. Desperately, Natsume considered the possibility that he could be overanalyzing everything. People with multiple personality disorders were scarce after all. He knew, of course, that this was a feeble excuse, but he was going to dump her at the hospital anyway... So he didn't give a damn about her. He shouldn't give a damn about her. At least this is what the conflicted man advised to himself repeatedly.

"What the- Imai Hotaru? Your badge says you're Sakura Mikan." Aoi challenged, brandishing said badge and stepping towards the imposter.

"That idiot. She put her badge in the wrong uniform again." Imai remarked resignedly, unraveling herself from the constricting blankets. She stood up from the couch and stretched her slender limbs out in front of her nonchalantly. She, then, proceeded to grab the glass cup from Natsume and took a great gulp, soothing her hoarse throat.

Right away, Natsume noticed that Imai/Sakura was having a mildly hard time breathing, before retracing the words she just said. "You know Sakura Mikan? Was she an AAO member, too, then?"

"Yeah. Been my best friend since kindergarten, but I haven't seen her for a whole month. And I was never an official member of the AAO." Her amethyst eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why do you ask? Did something happen to her?"

Natsume lied and shook his head in response. He wondered why his heart dropped upon hearing Imai's confirmation that Sakura was a member. He shelved the thought away for future examination.

Dredging up memories of his long-forgotten childhood, he recalled the psychology book that briefly explained the complexities of multiple personality disorders. It said that multiple personality disorders resulted from a person experiencing episodes of exceptionally traumatic events, consequently forcing the person to feel powerless and become unable to cope with anything remotely difficult. Thus, the brain adapts to this new mindset, and completely rewires itself to accommodate. Which is how the multiple personality disorder is developed.

In the patient's mind, the moment it registers fear or shock, it quickly creates a new "personality," or identity, who is able to deal with the situation, while the real personality experiences a black-out. Basically, if Sakura ever felt like she was in danger or felt exposed, her mind would shut down and another would replace it, effectively turning Sakura into another person, while still retaining her physical appearance. But there's another catch. Because the patient falls unconscious when another personality takes over her body, said personality views itself as a whole other person... Complete with new memories, a new name, new childhood, and different appearance. The mind possesses the capacity to distort the identity's vision, so that whenever the identity looks at herself, she sees her body rather than the patient's. For example, if one of Sakura's personalities was an old Indian grandma, everyone around her would still see Sakura's physical appearance, but the grandma would only see her dark, wrinkled body.

Unlike a healthy human who learns how to deal with tough situations, this is the bad, infomercial solution for those who don't possess the ability.

Natsume stared at Sakura's disheveled appearance with a twinge of irritation. Damn it. The strange feeling was back in his heart.

Snatching up a notepad and pen from the side table he stated, "draw yourself."

Imai snorted with derision, blatantly saying "can't you do that yourself? I'm standing right in front of your eyes, Stupid."

He ignored her insult, his stubborn interest in the elusive Sakura overpowering his pride. "You fell and had a concussion. And a really high fever. If I were you, I'd pipe the hell down."

Maybe his pride wasn't as overpowered as he claimed.

Imai glared at him with contempt before giving an aggravated sigh.

"Great. I need you to draw yourself as a small test to make sure your brain is functioning normally." He fibbed as she took the offered objects.

"This again..." She muttered, obviously annoyed at something.

"What was that?" Queried Aoi, still suspicious of Imai.

Imai purposefully dodged the question and asked one of her own expertly. Natsume mentally noted this with interest.

"So where am I?" She looked down at her clothes, now realizing that she was in a soft, light blue yukata. Her breathing became infinitesimally more shallow. "What's the date of today?"

"June 12, 2014; Asagao, Kyoto." Youichi spoke up from the hallway, exchanging glances with his wife, who stood in the corner of the room with folded arms.

Imai's calculating eyes reviewed Youichi, before gingerly shuffling over to the heap of black clothes. "Damn," she said, rifling through it, "the bastard. Making all citizens wear yukatas to differentiate them from soldiers... so inefficient and..." She took a rattling breath, "...hard to move in."

"I thought they were used to promote unity." Aoi retorted.

Amethyst eyes rolled. "Sorry to break it to you..." Another breath. "...But that was a lie. He just wanted the Alice..." Her breaths exponentially increased with each phrase, "...soldiers to be different from regular citizens... to 'show that Alices are superior to the scum of the earth...' I believe is what he said."

The atmosphere turned sour when Imai quoted the infamous ex-ruler.

"You'll get used to wearing it after a week." Natsume told Imai coldly, who paid no attention to his words.

"Where is that damn inhaler..." Her voice diminished as her wheezes amplified. "...Ever since that god forsaken war..." She murmured holding her inhaler up triumphantly. "...At least it lasted for only four years." Imai laughed bitterly at her joke as she drew in a lungful of air; everyone in the room grimly understood her joke, knowing full well that what lasted for 'only four years' seemed to last for a hundred.

"Wait- where did you get that inhaler from?" Natsume questioned sharply, certain that he examined the clothes thoroughly.

"I keep it hidden, you moron. Of course I don't want the enemy to steal it and make me die from a breathing fit." She said bluntly, her breathing back to normal. "Better."

Natsume thoughtfully watched as Imai sat down with the notepad and got to work. The feeling that was in his heart duplicated itself and sunk to his abdomen, leaving a fluttery sensation that made him want to cringe. Instead, he swiftly scoured the room for color pencils, settling on a battered box of crayons. He handed it to her, to which she immediately seized the purple.

"I'll go make breakfast, then. Come help me, Youichi." Aoi called to her husband. They disappeared off to the kitchen, undoubtedly eager to speculate about this enigmatic stranger.

Those five minutes of watching Imai draw was fascinating, as Natsume applauded the woman's front of bravery she donned on when she found herself in a stranger's home. He wondered how many times this has happened before, because her slender face held no signs of happiness or bewilderment. It stayed monotonous most of the time, and sarcastic for the rest. Her long, messy auburn tresses and side bangs framed her face beautifully, causing Natsume to check her ring finger to find it barren.

An unexpected wave of relief washed over him, before Natsume groaned out loud, finally receiving his epiphany- the reason why there were God awful butterflies in his stomach and palpitations in his chest. He was attracted to her. But on the bright side, at least he wasn't in love with her.

Natsume thought back to the moment he encountered the real Sakura Mikan, aware of how different she was from the girl who currently inhabited Sakura's body. Whose face was so distressed and bitter and almost... Melancholic.

He studied the female some more, pondering upon the peculiarity of Sakura's eyes and ran through all of the possible ailments she could have- perhaps a Latent or Dangerous Type Alice inflicted damage to her brain; or her concussion could have triggered something, causing her to revert into a false person; maybe she had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which wasn't uncommon amongst soldiers. There was also the possibility that she could be bipolar...

But for some reason, his instincts kept telling Natsume that this was most likely a multiple personality case. He gloomily scowled at the thought of how tedious therapy must be. He resolutely decided to check her into the hospital, since he had enough burdens to deal with.

When Imai stopped drawing, he bit back a curse that threatened to rise up; for the picture depicted a woman with cropped black hair and deep amethyst eyes.

Imai looked nothing like Sakura, besides their pale skin tone.

"Incidentally, are you a certified doctor?" Imai asked distrustfully.

"I've read a book or two on psychology." Natsume ran a hand through his untidy hair with another tired groan. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"If I remembered anything, I wouldn't be here right now."

"Then do you remember anything from the war? What did you make?" He probed.

"I was the producer of all guns and bombs the soldiers used in the war. I'm surprised you haven't heard of me."

Natsume finally dug up the hazy memories of seeing the words 'Imai Hotaru' engraved on the bottom of his rifle's handle and listening in on a conversation about Imai's phenomenal alice of invention. "You're the crazy tycoon who worked for both sides of the war."

Imai shrugged nonchalantly. "Had to work for that Kuonji moron, or else he would've bombed my factories and business." She cocked an eyebrow at him, her dark purple eyes taking on an inquisitive gleam. "How did you know I made something for the war? You didn't recall my name before, and you asked me what I made. So how did you-"

"Your hands are calloused; the way you stretched when you woke up suggests that you worked in a small room; and your posture is worse than mine... probably from bending over a desk for too long."

"Hm." She commented, before asking where the bathroom was.

Natsume led her to it, sparing a look at the old grandfather clock and receiving an unpleasant surprise. It was already 10 AM and he was expecting customers at 10:30.

"Towels and toiletries are under the sink. Stay here until I come back." He told her firmly, already slipping on his geta at the doorway. "Aoi, give Imai one of your best yukatas. We're going to the hospital when I come back."

"See you later!" Aoi yelled from the kitchen as the young man sprinted downstairs and out the fabric shop, seizing the large cardboard box in the process.

He sprinted ten blocks to his kimono store and home with mind-boggling speed, quickly ripping open the cardboard box and getting started on the yukata; the _obi_ already made the previous day. In record time he finished, and changed into a painfully formal kimono hurriedly.

Not a moment too soon, the two of them stepped into Natsume's store- which was just an expansive, spacious room with a large folding screen placed on one side and mirrors lining a corner- wearing extravagant yukatas of pale green and yellow pinwheels that made their complexions appear sickly.

"Oh, Natsume! It has been such a long time since I've seen you!" A rotund woman approached with a wide smile stretched on her caked face; her neck concealed by a prominent triple chin. She stretched out a pudgy arm to the disgusted male, pompously showing off the numerous rings and bracelets she had on, and proceeded to pinch his cheek with excruciating adoration.

When she finally released him from her talons, Natsume emotionlessly intoned back. "Hello to you too, Mrs. Iwamura. And how are you, Saki?" He addressed the woman behind Mrs. Iwamura, who was the replica of her mother-in-law.

She attempted to smile seductively but failed, as it only came off as a creepy leer.

Natsume grimaced inconspicuously and looked at his cell phone's clock- only half a minute has passed. 29 minutes and 30 seconds to go.

"I'm just fine, thank you. How about you? Have you met the 'girl of your dreams' yet?" She asked in a husky voice.

He merely smiled condescendingly, already aware of what she was implying. A vision of a stunning woman with dark coffee hair flew into his head, using this moment to finally get the impudent girl off his case.

"Yes, I have." He replied with a fake smile, willing Saki to leave him alone.

She scowled glumly at this and refused to speak to the attractive man the whole time, while the latter busied himself with making slight adjustments to her hydrangea yukata, believing that it was an appropriate punishment.

In the meantime, Natsume bathed in the heavenly freedom of not having lustful eyes imagine him in the nude, and was so happy that even Mrs. Iwamura picked up on it.

"Why, Natsume! You are happier than a man who just slept with the woman of his dreams! This woman must be truly extraordinary." Mrs. Iwamura nodded to herself, not taking into account her daughter-in-law's menacing glower and his obvious discomfort at her words. "Yes, when my husband, Yuki, took my virginity away..."

Natsume tuned her out, focusing solely on making the hem of the brilliant magenta yukata hang perfectly at Saki's ankles, whose cheeks were steadily becoming redder by the minute.

"And then on our honeymoon- Saki? Saki dear, what's wrong?" Mrs. Iwamura's boastful voice demanded.

"It's nothing." She answered roughly.

Natsume stood up and dusted off the bottom of his black kimono.

"Done." He said curtly, stowing away his collection of pins, while tucking the revised measurements into the _tamoto_ of his kimono.

She made a 'hmph' noise and childishly stomped behind the folding screen to change.

"Honestly, I do not know what is wrong with that girl." Mrs. Iwamura huffed, taking out her large wallet from her bag. She handed over her credit card and waddled away to assist her ridiculous daughter with taking off the yukata.

Natsume charged the card, grateful that General Yukihira distributed convenient electronic cash registers to stores, and saw that it was 11:00. His stomach protested from lack of food.

They finally emerged from the screen one minute and 42 seconds later, before the impatient man ushered them out the door and handed Mrs. Iwamura her card.

"You'll get the yukata by tomorrow." He told the pair, rushing through the usual farewells, then shutting the door.

Not bothering to change, Natsume locked up the store and decided to take a rickshaw to Aoi's home instead of walking; too drained to walk the distance. Upon arrival, he barged into his little sister's home without knocking and slumped down at the wooden kitchen table.

"Rough morning with the Iwamura's?" Aoi asked sympathetically, setting down a large bowl of chilled broth and rice.

He grunted in response and wolfed down the food with enthusiasm when Imai entered the room. She smartly sat down across from Natsume and watched him eat with a bored expression.

After finishing, he washed the dishes, and beckoned to Imai. "We're going now," Natsume announced, and then exited the building, where they boarded a rickshaw.

"So who is this man?" Imai asked.

Natsume studied her out of the corner of his eye, noticing that her hair was pinned up in a nice bun and that she wore the violet-embellished yukata he made for Aoi's birthday present.

"Doctor Nogi Ruka. He hates being called by his last name- don't ever ask why- so call him Doctor Ruka."

"Did he choose to wear western clothing or yukatas?" She asked curiously, envious of the privilege only doctors received; for she quite liked the sensibility of wearing pants and form-fitting shirts.

"Western clothing. He wears yukatas when he's not working." Natsume finished with a hint of a smirk.

"Is he an Alice?"

Natsume's smirk broadened. "Why don't you ask him."

They descended into a lapse of silence; Imai looking at the passing buildings with indifference while Natsume fished around for plausible reasons to give Ruka about how he discovered Sakura. In the end, when the two pulled up to a small hospital, Natsume decided that it would be best to tell his best friend the truth.

Imai and Natsume entered the sterile building, bypassing the crowded lobby, and headed straight upstairs to the doctor's private office. The latter pushed the door open to see a striking young man who had a side-swept haircut. Luckily, the person they were looking for was doing paperwork instead of tending to his patients.

"Natsume." Ruka said with astonishment, since the mentioned man never came directly to his office unless it was an emergency. He took off his glasses, allowing his curious cerulean eyes to stand out.

"Diagnose her." Ordered Natsume, settling down in one of the armchairs in the room's corner.

Ruka stared at the commanding individual, before looking at Imai, who stared back in return. He put his thick-rimmed glasses back on.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Doctor Ruka." He said. "Please, sit down." He gestured to one of the chairs that sat in front of his walnut desk. She obeyed with a roll of her eyes, as Ruka sat right next to her, letting his eyes roam over her attractive face. "Why do you think you're here, miss..." Ruka trailed off courteously.

"Hotaru." She prompted.

Natsume quirked an eyebrow with amusement. First name basis already?

Ruka seemed to understand that something was off the moment she spoke. As to how, Natsume will never know.

"I'm here because that moron," she motioned to the slouching figure, "said I had a concussion and a high fever last night. I'm assuming that this is a formal checkup."

Ruka released his stethoscope from around his neck, while asking, "have you experienced any headaches lately? Blacking out or feeling a slight pressure on your eyes?" He took off his stethoscope and retrieved a clipboard from his desk, writing some observations down.

"Well I got a bad headache earlier today, and I have been blacking out for long periods of time."

The scratching of his pen paused minutely before starting up again with more rigor. "How long has this been going on?"

"Since last month."

Ruka took out a mini flashlight and shone them in her dark lavender eyes. "Can you tell me how long these blackouts last for?"

"About a day, but this time it was for four days."

It was silent while Ruka continued with his inspection.

"What is your Alice?" She inquired bluntly; eliciting a choking noise from Natsume and a blush from Ruka, who changed the topic with an awkward transition.

"Eh... So do you drink, smoke, or do drugs?"

She scoffed; offended with the question. "I have enough sense to not erode my brain with harmful chemicals. I see zero benefit in wasting my precious money on useless habits."

The doctor nodded, remnants of his blush still present, before announcing, "alright, let me go outside to get you a prescription for some pain relievers. Natsume, may I talk to you for a sec?"

Natsume followed Ruka outside, closing the door with a snap.

"She's got a curse placed on her." Ruka stated without preamble. His voiced was laced with pity.

"By an Alice?"

The dirty blond-haired doctor nodded in affirmation. "It's a really strong one. It's so strong that I think it completely messed her brain up."

"Then do something about it." Natsume insisted, his eyes lighting up with an intense emotion.

"It's not that easy." Ruka took off his glasses and wiped them on his white button-down shirt. "It's going to take extensive intensive therapy... and copious amounts of luck. That's how bad her curse is."

"Well that's fucking dandy, because I think she has a Multi-"

A familiar wheeze emerged from Ruka's office. Mirroring each other's furtive glance, the two men swung the door open. Inside, Imai could be seen on the ground, hugging herself, and whimpering and gasping pathetically. While she rocked back and forth with a haunted face, her wheezes morphing into gasps.

Ruka looked at Natsume with mystification.

"Imai! Didn't you just use your inhaler two hours ago?" Natsume drawled. "Your respiratory system is really shitty."

Her eyes fluttered between relief at the sight of them, annoyance, and oblivion. However, the last feeling was victorious, because Imai's amethyst eyes vanished and were replaced by that startling shade of gray again.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Natsume?"

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to CARohanne, manga-girl-freak, my-silver-lining, crossover. , bleh123, Hannahbluenanna13XD, Ivzory, kazukarin, kiers, Xim-no-writerX, and the rest of you who took the time to read this story.

EDITED. Please review and tell me how you like this story so far! I hope the explanation of Multiple Personality Disorders wasn't too confusing... If it was, refer to Wikipedia for more information.

-_Tamoto:_ sleeve pouch of a kimono and yukata


	3. In Which Natsume Encounters Youichi

A/N: Thank you to Xxdarkness-angelxX, Hannahbluenanna13XD, Cifayn, .imagination, kazukarin, kiers, The Random Artist, *_*, .Soldier, and Akatsuki Utaou. Your reviews are my motivators. :)

* * *

Silence ensued after Ruka's question. It was a deafening silence. A stifling one. One that was interrupted by a faint, "Papa?"

Ruka turned to his friend with scandalized cerulean eyes. "Papa." He reiterated, a tone of 'what the fuck is happening, Natsume' present in his voice.

Natsume knelt down beside the female with crinkled eyebrows. His garnet eyes fruitlessly searched her face for any trace of Imai, and found nothing besides the realization that her eyes were a bit greener than dark gray. Natsume felt disappointed and intrigued at the same time. "Who are you?"

"You- Youichi." She stuttered faintly, eyes darting around the room wildly and dodging Natsume's prying eyes.

"You're... a boy?" Ruka spoke, also kneeling down.

Youichi nodded mutely, staring intently at an invisible speck on the hardwood floor.

Natsume thoughtfully processed this, wondering whether this Youichi was connected to his brother-in-law, since they shared the same unique name. "How old are you, Youichi-kun?"

He held up five fingers and an index finger, still evading eye contact with either men, causing Ruka to blurt out the word, "autism."

Comprehension dawned on Natsume's face. "You sure?"

"Well..." Ruka hesitated. "I'm going to need to keep her- I mean him- in the hospital for further examination."

At this declaration, Youichi snaked his arms around Natsume's neck and childishly buried his face into his "father's" chest. In response, Natsume struggled with his conflicting emotions: on the one hand, Youichi was still technically a girl so it would be inappropriate to return the embrace, but on the other, the citrus scent which radiated from Sakura's auburn hair was seriously tempting him. A sniffle from Youichi resulted in Natsume protectively encompassing his frail body, while Ruka studied them with an entertained smile.

"Youichi-kun," Ruka said kindly, "Papa can stay with you in the hospital, okay? I only need you to do one teeny, tiny test, and then you can go home. How does that sound?"

The six-year-old nodded forcefully.

Ruka chuckled and got up from the hard ground. "Follow me, please."

Natsume complied, strolling down the hallways next to his comrade with Youichi gripping onto his yukata sleeve possessively. The two men conversed in low murmurs the whole journey.

"Why don't you ever visit me with good news, Natsume?" Ruka complained, wiping his glasses impulsively. "Seriously, a girl who has Multiple Personality Disorder and possibly even autism? Excuse me for my pessimism, but the chances of curing her/him is... slim. At best."

Natsume pried Youichi's/Sakura's hand away from his black kimono and clasped it in his own; taking no heed to how perfect their hands melded together. Youichi's eyes lit up with joy.

"I was hoping she didn't have the disorder." Natsume remarked. "Do you think the curse could have done this?"

"My thought's the same."

Natsume made a cynical 'tsk' noise. "Right. Well I was going to leave her in your care, anyway."

Ruka gave him a disapproving look. "I would highly advise you to watch over her, rather than abandon her. You're important to Imai, or Youichi-kun, or whoever the hell she is."

"Sakura Mikan." Natsume corrected.

"You're important to Mikan-"

"Sakura." He cut in.

"-therefore it would be better... Wait. What did you just say?"

"Call her Sakura."

Ruka gaped disbelievingly, freezing in the middle of the corridor. "You like her." He accused, his eyes widening to the size of oranges. "You. Like. H-"

Natsume glared menacingly at the doctor. "Say that again, and I will castrate you. And I do not like her, Idiot. I will admit that she has a certain charm to her, but overall, she's not my type."

Ruka played along with his friend as they continued walking. "Uh huh. Whatever you say."

The crimson-eyed male halfheartedly threw a hook to which Ruka dodged easily.

"As I was saying, if _Sakura_ stayed with you, the chances of recovery is higher than if she stayed with someone she doesn't know." Ruka led them into a circular room and unlocked one of the many doors which lined the place. "After you."

They headed inside, Youichi fearfully trailing behind. Natsume squeezed his hand reassuringly.

The small area they entered was actually the children's ward. Cheery yellow walls and wailing children assaulted Natsume's senses, before Ruka steered them through another room, where numerous building blocks awaited.

"Okay, Youichi-kun!" Ruka exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Let's play!"

The little boy ignored the enthusiastic man.

"Youichi?"

The silent boy tugged a relenting Natsume towards an inconspicuous piano which was situated in the far corner. It was then that Ruka realized Youichi was walking on his toes- another indicator of autism. He look on as the former plopped down on the antique piano bench, extracting a moan from it, and exposed the keys in the process. Letting go of Natsume's warm grasp, Youichi inhaled the calming scent of polished wood before performing an exquisite melody effortlessly; Sakura's slender fingers splaying out across the black and white surface. Natsume watched, fascinated with the young boy, whereas Ruka was stunned. When the last note of Beethoven's _Piano Sonata No. 31, Op. 110_ resounded throughout the room, an applause arose from the doorway. The trio glanced around in time to witness a crowd spilling into the converted music room.

"Wow... Uh... Yeah. We have an autistic piano prodigy, here, Natsume." Ruka whispered.

"No shit." He answered dryly.

* * *

After the assembly dispersed, Youichi timidly plucked at Natsume's kimono with wide, pale green eyes. The brooding aura dissipated from Natsume as he bent his knees to become a foot shorter. Now face-to-face with Youichi, he patted the boy genius on the head and said, "you did good, Youichi." At this, Youichi beamed with glee, finally initiating eye contact. Natsume was both taken aback and pleased, as was Ruka.

"That about sums it up." Ruka concluded with a smile.

"What? He'll have to be admitted into the hospital?"

Youichi shook his head frantically.

"No." Ruka stated resolutely. "I am absolutely certain that Youichi-kun should stay with you."

Natsume raked a hand through his hair blearily. "Ruka. How can I take care of him, if I can't even take care of myself?"

"I beg to differ. You're taking care of yourself just fine."

Garnet eyes flashed dangerously. Why couldn't Ruka understand that he didn't want to taint this innocent little boy? To corrupt with his blood stained hands. To destroy with his incapability to care for other sentient things.

"Pa... pa?" Youichi hesitantly hooked his pinky with Natsume's. "Where's Mama?"

Ruka faced his friend with the same scandalized expression as before. "Mama?"

Said man shrugged.

"Youichi-kun, can you tell me who your Mama is?"

He nodded his head, then replied, "Mikan."

Natsume pinched the bridge of his nose at the same time as Ruka's mouth dropped open. "Please tell me that this is another symptom of autism."

Ruka continued to gawk.

"Believe what you want, but I did not sleep with her." Natsume claimed. "I didn't even know who she was until yesterday."

"Speaking of, you never told me how you found Sakura."

So Natsume told his best friend, and confidant, everything. Excluding the attraction he felt towards Sakura, of course; for he felt an overwhelming need to keep it private. When the recount ended, lines had materialized in between Ruka's eyebrows.

"Something just... doesn't feel right." Ruka said, pacing around the room. "Don't you find it strange that an Alice- an AAO member at that- just so happens to be teleported to one of the most prominent leaders of the rebel cause."

Natsume leaned back against the wall, stuffing his hands into his pockets thoughtfully.

"You don't think... It could be possible that... Kuonji sent her? Like as recon?"

A low rumble broke their trance, signaling that the youngest of the bunch was hungry. Gray-peridot eyes blinked back at them embarrassedly.

"Crap. I just missed my shift."

Natsume scoffed. "No one will give a damn. You're the best doctor this place has."

Ruka ignored this comment, tapping the top of Youichi's head. "Alright, Big Man. Where should we go for dinner?"

Youichi frowned pensively; drowning Ruka in nostalgia from the same expression Natsume used to display all the time.

The little boy mimed what he wanted to eat, since his ability to speak was limited, by wiggling his thin body, after pretending to hold a bowl and chopsticks.

"Good choice." Natsume commended, offering his hand for Youichi to latch onto.

"You understood that?" Ruka inquired, taking the lead and navigating them to the hospital's back exit.

"Yeah, it was pretty obvious."

Ruka sighed exaggeratedly. "Of course you would say that."

They took off from the hospital, down a cobbled alley, with Natsume at the head of the group. Recognition shone on Ruka's face when they arrived outside of a well-kept ramen stall.

"'Ey, it's Natsume and Ruka!" A thickset man leaned over the counter, a scar marring part of his face. Youichi cowered behind Natsume's lean frame. "What's this? Natsume got 'imself a girl! I was starting to worry about you, but 'ere you are wit' the finest woman in Asagao."

Natsume had the ghost of a smile on his face at the man's playful banter.

"And why the hell are you wearing that ridiculous kimono! It looks like you're about to meet your girlfriend's parents!" He exclaimed, laughing boisterously at his joke.

"Hey, Gramps. Koko isn't in today?" Natsume asked, parking himself in a stool, while Ruka and Youichi followed suit.

"Oh, he's in alright. Prolly lookin' at more nak-"

"Dad!" A stocky man scolded, appearing next to his dad. His shaggy, golden hair offset his olive green eyes and square jaw quite handsomely. He wore a tan yukata with a plain dark blue obi. "Welcome back! We figured you guys betrayed us and found another ramen stall."

Ruka chortled at this. "And have you guys hunt us down with gargantuan knives? I think not."

Another growl came from Youichi's stomach, putting a halt to their reunion.

"Good-for-nothing-son-of-mine, keep 'em company while I make the ramen. The usual, eh?" Yome-san boomed, stepping to the back of the restaurant after Natsume nodded.

"So... What's your name?" Koko asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Just read her mind." Natsume said, not wanting to explain the whole story over again.

"May I?" Koko requested Youichi with a gentle smile that made Natsume's blood tingle. Youichi consented with a single nod, eyes still averted.

"Okie, then. In I go!" He comically declared, pushing his sleeves up. His eyes pierced into Sakura's head with concentration, then became perplexed, which dissipated into curiosity.

"What's wrong?" Ruka questioned, observing the mirage of emotions that flitted through Koko's face.

"I can read her surface thoughts just fine, by the way, I like raw egg in my ramen too," he confessed to an astonished Youichi, "but whenever I delve in deeper, something blocks my way..." His eyes obtained a glassy look as he held his hands up and attempted to imitate the 'something.' "It was like... a boulder... no a wall...? Oh! It was like a congealed shield of clouds."

Two blank looks met his narration.

"I dunno... It was like... Soft and plushy like a cloud... But it was so thick that I couldn't travel through. Very strange. May I ask what Alice you have?" He addressed Youichi, and then continued. "Oh! I see... That's a very cool Alice you got there. I would love to summon badass spirits, too, eh... What's your name?" Koko choked on his saliva the next second as he swung around to Natsume with huge eyes. "Hyuuga Youichi?"

Natsume pinched the bridge of his nose with impatience. "Just read our damn minds." He snapped.

Koko turned to Ruka with his hand outstretched, saying "pay up, Blondie. I knew he was gay the moment he refused to go to the red district with me."

The smell of homemade pork broth submerged their noses as Yome-san ambled into the room with three large bowls. "Here ya go, lads. They're on the house tonight."

Koko's hand retreated disappointedly, but Ruka recommended him to delve into their minds, before asking for the money. Koko took his advice, and was quiet for a full minute; his eyes flickering from things unseen by human beings. He emerged from his stupor with a contemplative face, gazing at Youichi through a new filter. "That's..."

"Complicated?" Ruka supplied.

"Yeah. Horrendously complicated. Sorting through Natsume's memories was a blast." Koko commented with a knowing look. "You know, it's not healthy speculating and judging people like that all the time. It'll give you premature... Well you already have wrinkles, so gray hair. Premature gray hair, ya hear me?"

Natsume disregarded this and said, "good pork ramen, as usual, Gramps."

The old man faked an affronted look. "The day my ramen tastes good, will be the day Good-for-nothing-son-of-mine takes over my stall."

Now it was Koko's turn to look insulted. "Please. I'm the one who draws in the most customers here. You're fat ass can't do jack."

The father and son persisted with their teasing while the trio slurped down the last of their noodles, the once bright sky transforming into one with hues of dusky purples and baby pinks.

"Thank you for the dinner. I've got to return to the hospital now. Have to teach some interns how to take care of their night shift." Ruka proclaimed. "See you, guys. Bye, Youichi-kun."

And just like that, the shrieking came back with full force.

* * *

A/N: Please remember to review, and tell me what **Asagao, Tsubaki, **and **Ajisai** means! You'll get a little cookie if you do... teehee

On another note, for the readers out there who aren't aware, "him" and "her" are the same word in Japanese. Which is why Youichi never questions why he is sometimes referred to as "her."

Please tell me if you see any grammatical errors.


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